


Spell it Out

by EvilMuffins



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Smut, Sex Magic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-09
Updated: 2016-01-09
Packaged: 2018-05-10 08:35:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5578705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EvilMuffins/pseuds/EvilMuffins
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sumia was quite certain that she was not very good at a great many things. Making Henry happy, however, was thankfully not one of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spell it Out

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SaraJaye](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaraJaye/gifts).



> I love your Henry/Sumia fics so much! Thanks for being an inspiration!
> 
> Edit: Added an extra little paragraph :)

Sumia had always been hesitant about being intimate with her fiancé, claiming that she was far too clumsy for such a thing. Surely, she’d knock him off the bed, or somehow give him a black eye or bloody nose, and no party involved would have a good time (well, maybe Henry would, but she’d certainly feel awful). Just staying up late reading beside him was enough for her, she insisted.

One such night, however, Henry had a suggestion, casually blurting it out of nowhere in his trademark fashion.

“What if you just lie there?" he asked, laying down the tome he had been reading, and turning to Sumia. "You know, like a dead person?”

“Henry!” Sumia scolded. Though she understood his meaning more or less, despite his unceremonious breaching of a delicate topic, she still didn’t particularly care for being compared to a corpse, especially not with their lives in danger every day as they were.

“Nya-ha! You know what I mean. Just get aaaaall comfy, and I’ll do all the work. You won’t have to lift a finger...and that way, you won’t break any of mine!”

Sumia hesitated. “What about you?”

“You know that I’m happy as long as you’re happy,” His smile was so sincere that she found no further will to object.

She returned the expression, nervously reaching behind herself in order to begin unlacing her bodice.

“Nope!” Henry chirped, waving his hand in a hexing gesture.

Suddenly, Sumia’s arm was frozen in place behind her back.

“I’m going to take care of _everything_. Did you forget already, silly?”

“You’re not going to take care of anything if you don’t remove this hex,” Sumia warned, skirting the line between playful and seriousness. As with many things Henry did and said, she wasn’t entirely sure he was completely serious or not. Even if he were about to do all the work, Sumia drew the line at being completely unable to move a muscle.

“Oh, alright,” he sighed theatrically, waving his hand once again to free her.

Able to move her arm once more, she settled into a more comfortable position, perched in the center of their shared cot.

Henry began to mumble another spell under his breath.

“Henry!” Sumia gasped, lips parted for want of air. Her bodice had suddenly constricted considerably, making it nearly impossible to breathe.

“Whoops, wrong hex! Kinda made a boo-boo there... Lemme see now…”

He pecked a kiss to the part of her chest that was blossoming out of the top of the overly-tightened bodice, before beginning work on the correct spell.

The garment began it’s slow return to its original size, allowing Sumia’s lungs to refamiliarize themselves with oxygen.

Instead, the fabric of her top began to transform, from a simple soldiers’ cotton to something smooth as silk, seeming to liquify, gliding off of her body like water. Once her top was bare, her skirt and undergarment followed its lead, sliding away before becoming solid again where they lay in a pile on the tent floor leaving the lady knight in only her stockings and garters.

“S-should I lie back now?” Sumia asked, beginning to squirm at being exposed so, the cool night air making acquaintance with her freshly uncovered chest. Though Henry had assured her time and again that she was _‘as pretty as a freshly preened crow’_ , there were times in which she still had her doubts.

“Whatever makes you comfortable. This is about you.” It sounded as if Henry was beginning to take this more seriously now; the thought set Sumia slightly more at ease.

She decided to stay seated upright for now, if only to see what he had planned next, if there _was_ any sort of plan.

Henry clapped his hands together as if in prayer, chanting softly under his breath before slowly pulling them apart as the air surrounding them began to glow a warm golden hue.

Sumia always loved to watch Henry perform his craft, the motions of his hands never failing to mesmerise. Tharja had once told her that Henry was far stronger than the other dark mage, and Sumia believed it; this was truly an art form. How someone so talented had fallen for her, Sumia had no clue; what she _was_ certain of was that she absolutely loved him back with every fiber of being that Naga had blessed to her.

He placed enchanted hands just above her shoulders now, warm as a hot springs bath and singing with the energy.

Once he was certain that Sumia was comfortable with what he was doing, Henry began to move his hands slowly downward, cupping her breasts, allowing the magic to hum over and about them, pink and pert with sensitivity.

With a sigh, Sumia melted backward onto the cot, previous position forgotten with the realisation that her legs weren’t about to hold her in the coming moments, if he planned to continue this way.

Leaving one enchanted hand to work on her chest, Henry glided the other down over her toned stomach, hand hovering a whisper above her soft skin. Sumia shivered as he continued on in a meandering little sort of circular motion.

She looked up into his face; surely he must be bored, she thought, doing this for her without any return for himself, yet she found he was smiling. This wasn't his smile from the battlefield, crazed with blood. This smile left his face tinged with pink, soft, his eyes enthralled as he worked.

Sumia’s foot began to scrunch at the sheets then, fingers flexing for a place to land, as he traveled lower and lower still, thrumming warmth and energy working rhythmically, magic rippling over and through where he knew that she would feel it most.

The knight cried out in a strangled little chirp, the tent walls too thin to chance too great a volume.

He placed his lips over her’s then. No magic involved in the action, the only warmth that of true love.

Sumia was quite certain that she was not very good at a great many things. Making Henry happy, however, was thankfully not one of them.

_The end_


End file.
